


Countdown

by RedHeadedWoman



Series: 52 Stories in 52 Weeks [10]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Big Brother Dick, Big Brother Jason, Gen, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6296992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHeadedWoman/pseuds/RedHeadedWoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick watched the timer ticking down. One minute was all he had left. It wasn’t much time when you really thought about it. Sure, one minute was longer than none, but it wasn’t nearly enough time to do anything significant. </p>
<p>What the hell was he supposed to do in one minute?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for this week was a story featuring a countdown.

One minute.

Dick watched the timer ticking down. One minute was all he had left. It wasn’t much time when you really thought about it. Sure, one minute was longer than none, but it wasn’t nearly enough time to do anything significant. What the hell was he supposed to do in one minute?

As the time ticked away, Dick sighed and dropped his chin onto his chest. It was late and he was tired. Thirty seconds to go and it would be done. Another thirty seconds and he could relax. He cracked his neck, scrunched his toes in shoes, flexed his fingers.

5 …4 … 3 … 2 … 1 …

The oven dinged and shut itself off. Dick jumped up and carefully pulled the cake out. It seemed okay but Dick had no idea. Baking wasn’t exactly his forte. He set the cake aside to cool. He double checked the oven was turned off and went to bed. He’d finish decorating it tomorrow.

Dick figured he was lucky he hadn’t burnt the place down. He counted it as a win so didn’t wanna press his luck.

…

The next morning, Dick blearily poured his cereal, staring at the cooled cakes he had lying around. There were four in total, including the one still sitting in the tin. Four cakes and the apartment was still standing. Dick groaned and let his head thunk against the counter top. He never should’ve offered to do this on his own. Of course, Alfie probably should’ve known better. Still, he was determined to do this right.

With his breakfast finished and cleaned away, Dick consulted his instructions again. He’d found the recipe on a YouTube channel Jason really liked. He’d watched the video several times over and written down every instruction one by one. He needed the cakes for that night and wasn’t entirely sure if he’d be able to pull it off.

‘Fuck it,’ Dick muttered and grabbed his phone to shoot off a text.  _ Jay, lil wing, i need help _ .

_ get fucked _ , comes the reply after a few seconds. Dick frowned at his phone.

_ it’s for timmy shithead. help me. Plz? :( _

Dick threw his phone on the counter and pulled on some sweats and a shirt. He set out the four cakes and read over his instructions.  _ Level cakes using serrated knife in small sections at a time. _

What the fuck.

Dick grumbled, got out a serrated knife and stared at the cakes. Level them how? Just as Dick was about to make the first cut, something tripped his alarm.

‘Thank fuck.’ Dick muttered and dropped the knife to investigate. Jason was toeing his shoes off in front of the door. ‘Oh, thank god, Jayce.’

‘You ain’t fucking up this cake, Dickie,’ Jason said. ‘Where is it and what are you doing with it?’

‘Kitchen,’ Dick showed Jason into the kitchen. ‘I’m s’posed to level ‘em?’

‘I’ll do it.’ Jason took the knife and began working. Dick sat opposite to watch him work. He knew that when Jason had been living at the Manor  _ before _ , Alfred had taught him how to cook and bake. While Jason was no master chef, he was a shitload better than Dick.

‘You gonna sit there or are you gonna do something?’ Jason snapped. Dick floundered for a moment before he grabbed his written list.

‘Ah, buttercream. I could do that? I printed off a recipe.’ He handed said recipe to Jason who read it over and nodded.

‘‘S a good one. Don’t fuck it up.’ Jason warned. Dick huffed and started very carefully making the buttercream. He read each step twice before he started on it. Jason had finished with the cakes and had sat himself up on a counter where he’d be able to watch Dick work. ‘How’s Tim doing?’

‘He’s still laid up in bed,’ Dick said. Tim’s birthday had been three days ago but there’d been a crisis so they hadn’t been able to celebrate. Tim had ended up badly hurt and had spent the last few hours of his birthday and the day after in a coma. ‘He’s not happy to be there but Alfie’s keeping a close eye on him.’

‘Plus the clone.’

‘Plus Conner,’ Dick shot Jason a look. ‘You know Tim hates it when you and Damian call him that. I don’t think Conner particularly cares but Timmy does and that really should be enough to stop you.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know. That’s mostly why we do it.’ Jason flicked some sugar at him. Dick pulled a face.

‘Why do you have to be so mean to him, Jay? Tim seems to think you two are getting along better.’

‘We are, Dickie. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna go easy on ‘im.’

‘That’s fucked up, Jayce. Here. What d’you think?’ Dick shoved the bowl of icing at him.

‘It’s done. Congrats. You didn’t fuck up the icing.’ Jason grinned, throwing his arms up and sliding off the counter. Dick huffed at him, biting down on the edges of a smile. It’d been so fucking long since he’d seen Jason be … Jason. It made for a nice change.

Together they spent the better part of the day putting the cake together. The design or whatever was called a naked cake ‘cause there wasn’t any icing covering it. It was just kinda shoved between the layers. Dick had no idea. There were chocolates and candies on the icing between the layers and stacked up on top of the cake. All the chocolates were Tim’s favourites with Nutella holding it all together. It was a fucking massive cake and Dick was very proud of himself for managing it. Jason had supervised, making sure the cake wouldn’t collapse in on itself. It all looked pretty fucking good.

‘You reckon he’ll like it?’ Dick asked as they cleaned up.

‘The thing’s piled high with some of his favourite junk food. So, yeah, Dickie, I think he’s gonna like it.’ Jason said.

…

Tim was asleep when they got to the Manor. Dick entrusted the cake to Alfred’s watchful eye and took Tim’s medication up to him. Tim was spread eagle in his bed, all his blankets kicked to the floor. Dick set aside the small tray of medications and looked his brother over.

Tim only had on a pair of black and purple Batgirl boxer shorts. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. He was absolutely covered in bandages. From his nose to his cheek, his neck and arms. His ribs were bound, hiding some stitches on his sternum. His right wrist was wrapped for a sprain. The edge of a bandage was peeking out his boxers. His left foot and ankle were in a cast for a couple broken bones. Bandages criss-crossed his legs. None of the injuries were particularly bad but combined they’d done the trick. An infection had set in and Alfie’d been struggling to keep Tim’s temperature within normal range.

Dick ducked into the bathroom to wet a wash cloth and carefully wiped Tim’s face, pushing his hair back. Tim grumbled, scrunching his nose. Dick dropped a kiss onto Tim’s forehead and snorted when the kid grumbled again and turned his face away. Dick refreshed the cloth and smoothed it over Tim’s chest and arms, concentrating on his throat and wrists, mindful of the bandages and bruises. He settled the washcloth on Tim’s forehead and pressed his fingers along it.

‘Timmy? You awake?’

‘No,’ Tim muttered, curling on his side towards Dick. He held the cloth in place and rubbed Tim’s back with his other hand.

‘Careful of the stitches, little brother.’ Dick warned. Tim muttered something into the sheets. ‘Come on, Tim. Alfie’s sent me up with medicine.’

‘No. Hurts.’

‘Monosyllabic, Timmy, really? You can do better than that.’

‘Fuck off, asshole.’ Tim snapped. Dick huffed, flicking Tim’s hair. Tim smiled, glancing up at him. ‘Better?’

‘Idiot. Up.’ Dick got Tim to sit up and convinced him to take the medication. Tim swallowed them down and flopped back onto the bed. ‘Still too hot?’ Tim nodded, sighing, and scratched his hip. ‘Where’s Conner?’

‘Ma needed him for something.’ Tim muttered. ‘C’n I have the fan?’

‘No, you cannot have the fan. Alfie’d kill me if you got worse ‘cause of me.’ Dick sat against the headboard and coaxed Tim to sit up and lean against him. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’

‘No. No surprises.’ Tim grumbled, turning his face into Dick’s chest.

‘Too late,’ Jason called from the door. He was followed in by Alfred, Bruce, and Damian. Tim peeked out at them from under his hair, spotted the cake and candles and groaned, hiding his face again. As the others settled themselves on Tim’s bed and sang “Happy Birthday” to him, Dick kept his arm tight around Tim’s shoulders. The kid hated being the centre of attention like this.

‘Come on, Timmy, make a wish and blow out the candles.’ Jason sounded distinctly like he was trying not to make fun of him. Tim sat up just enough to glare at Jason and blew out the candles. Dick and Jason both clapped obnoxiously. Tim slapped Dick’s chest but accepted a plate with a massive slice of cake.

‘I’m not gonna be able to finish this.’ Tim complained, frowning at the slice.

‘Finish what you can. I’m sure someone’ll have the rest.’ Bruce lightly nudged Tim’s foot.

‘Can’t let all've Dickie’s hard work go to waste.’ Jason ignored Dick’s filthy look.

‘You made this?’ Tim asked, looking up at him.

‘I had some supervision from Jay but yeah.’ It wasn’t that Dick hadn’t wanted Tim to know he’d made the cake. Just not before he’d started eating it because now the kid would feel obliged to try and finish the slice. ‘Eat what you can, Tim. Even if none of us can finish it, we’ve got a fucking Great Dane loping about the place.’

‘Titus will -’

‘Finish whatever Master Tim and myself cannot finish.’ Alfred cut in smoothly in tone that left no room for argument. Damian scowled but shoved a forkful of cake into his mouth. The others too started in on the cake. Dick was surprised how well the cake had turned out.

As everyone else was distracted by both their cake and Jason and Damian’s bickering, Tim leant against Dick’s side again, slowly working through the truly enormous slice.

‘Thanks, Dickie.’

‘Any time, little brother. Happy birthday.’


End file.
